


your love marks my skin

by DenaCeleste



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Biting, Bottom!Will, Choking, Desk Sex, Hannibal is a Cannibal, M/M, Possessive Hannibal, Power Exchange, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube, Will is a psych professor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5228615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenaCeleste/pseuds/DenaCeleste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Psychology professor Will Graham gets yet another love note from a besotted student. Hannibal is less than thrilled with that state of affairs, and makes sure Will knows who he belongs to in no uncertain terms.</p><p>Or, Will gets enthusiastically marked by a possessive Hannibal in a rousing round of desk sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your love marks my skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [XCuteAsHale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XCuteAsHale/gifts).



> Thanks to my lovely Cutie for the prompt! And to my darling Mysenia for the last-minute beta! You are both amazing people and I love you dearly!
> 
>   **Unless otherwise stated, all works are unbetaed. Please no public concrit. Please keep comments positive. Any private concrit can be directed to my Tumblr ask box.**

The intricately folded paper fluttered to the floor when Will dumped his bag on the desk to sort through student assignments. He hated grading. With a burning, fiery passion. He deposited his coat over the back of the chair, yanked the knot out of his tie and threw it to the side.

 

“What is this? And why does it smell like perfume? _Cheap_ perfume?” Hannibal picked up the offending note between his thumb and forefinger, nose wrinkling just a tiny bit.

 

Will sighed through his teeth. “Some semesters a student will get...enamored. I ignore it.”

 

“Hard to ignore this, dear Will. I could smell it across the house.” With careful movements, he unfolded the note. Will watched his face go dangerously still, and the predator that usually rested docile awakened behind his eyes. “Tell me, may I make a pate of her liver? I think that would be preferable to her continued existence.”

 

Will snorted, grabbed the note, and crumpled it up without even checking the contents. The perfume told him more than enough. “Do I need to get a bag to put this in so you don’t have to smell it?”

 

“It’s too late for that. Your satchel reeks.” Hannibal scowled. Well, frowned. The corners of his lips tilted down ever so slightly. Will spent a lot of time trying to catalogue Hannibal’s microexpressions. With a face like that, it wasn’t exactly a hardship on his part.

 

“I can’t help it if students get obsessed. It’s just a fact of life. Especially teaching intro to psychology with all of those freshmen.” Will tossed the paper into the trash can anyway.

 

“I don’t like that you smell of this...Lucille.” Hannibal said her name with a sneer, lip curled up to reveal sharp teeth.

 

“Ah. Lucille. Average student, tendency to daydream. I suppose this explains it.” Amusement unfurled in him until he had to cover his mouth, trying to prevent the smile. “I mean, it’s flattering, but you can’t be jealous of a child with a crush.”

 

Hannibal stalked towards him. Will retreated, and they circled the desk until Hannibal leapt forward and pushed him back with a hand to the throat. “You are mine. You belong to no one but me, and I will _not tolerate another’s mark on you_. Do you understand me?”

 

Fingers dug into the flesh at the corners of his jaw, and it _hurt_ , but he loved it. “Then I guess you’re going to have to make sure they know I’m taken.” He tried to smirk, but there was enough fear fluttering in his gut that he only twitched.

 

Hannibal purred, and with his free hand began to unbutton Will’s shirt. He parted the material, and Will couldn’t even crane his head to see what would happen next.

 

“Hannibal!” he yelped as strong, sharp nails raked down his chest, over the soft flesh of his stomach, only to be stopped by his pants. He choked off a groan, mostly because the hand at his jaw clenched.

 

“I am going to make sure _you_ know you’re taken. And leave some signs for the rest of the world, so they know that they are unworthy of one such as you.” As he spoke, Hannibal unbuckled Will’s belt, unfastened his pants, and pulled them both down. “Toe off your shoes.”

 

Will arched a bit against the desk, the edge of it pressing awkwardly into his skin, just this side of too uncomfortable. With an extra wiggle and judicious use of his toes, he got his socks off as well.

 

He froze when Hannibal cupped his balls, rolled them until Will whimpered. His shaft, half-hard and rising, was completely ignored. Hannibal stood, lifted him by the amazing hold on his face, and Will waited as Hannibal arranged things behind him.

 

“Your attention to detail is amazing.” His mouth got him into trouble every so often, but Hannibal didn’t even sigh at him anymore. He ignored his rudeness instead of rewarding or punishing.

 

This time Hannibal’s mouth tightened, fingertips leaving impressions Will would likely have to grow a beard to disguise. “No backtalk, William.”

 

“I make no promises.” His jaw abruptly freed, pain filled in the absence of Hannibal’s grip until he could practically feel the whorls of the man’s fingerprints. He didn’t have long to consider that because Hannibal hefted him onto the desk. The buckle of his bag dug into the skin between his shoulder blades, the bulk of it rested under and just past his ass to droop over the side of the desk.

 

He didn’t care. Those fingers, the ghosts of which he could feel gripping him still, pressed at his lips. “Open, Will. Suck. And keep your hands down, on the desk. Do not move them.”

 

He obeyed, of course he did. Whatever else he was, however challenging or sarcastic, that tone of voice brooked no resistance.

 

And he wanted it. He curled his tongue around and between them, saw no reaction beyond a slight darkening of the doctor’s eyes. Hannibal removed them from Will with a wet slurp, and wasted no time bringing them down, down, hooking Will’s leg onto his shoulder to expose his hole, and then pressed those two dripping digits into him.

 

Will hissed, the slight discomfort enough to make him squirm. Enough to make his dick jump where it lay, hard and throbbing against his lower belly. Hannibal’s nostrils flared, and he didn’t have to look down to know what effect he had on his lover.

 

Instead of asking him to wet his hand, to suck his cock, whatever Will _may_ have expected, he didn’t expect to see Hannibal lick his own hand once, twice, thrice and then drop it below Will’s line of sight. Soon enough the blunt, spongy head of Hannibal’s cock, so much thicker than two fingers, pushed in without stopping.

 

“Fuck, Hannibal, gentle, please!” Will wiggled his shoulders, tried to get a little more comfortable, and papers crunched with every move. Hannibal pushed his leg back, spread the other to the side, until Will froze in place. He set his teeth, ever so delicately, just past Will’s ankle into the meat of his calf. With Will’s other leg curled over his hip, he plucked at a nipple and increased the pressure of his teeth.

 

Will locked eyes with Hannibal, and the other man batted his eyelashes coyly as he worked in and out, slow, so slow now. He groaned and let his head thump back onto the desk when Hannibal changed the angle, and brushed over his prostate.

 

Pleasure sparked over his skin, struck down his spine like lightning, and all of his breath punched out of him. “Han-Hannibal!”

 

“Yes, my dear? Is there something you wanted?” How he could sound like he was asking for tea while he was balls deep inside Will’s body, moving in measured thrusts, keeping the angle that made Will stutter, Will couldn’t begin to guess.

 

“I--you--you know what I want, please, Hannibal, please!” He begged, he was willing to beg, he _needed_. But a hot flush worked its way down, from his cheeks, over his neck, across his chest. It burned and prickled, and Hannibal’s eyes followed it.

 

“What _I_ want, Will, is to remove this abhorrent scent from your bag, from your skin because it soaked in at your waist. Perhaps even tainted the handkerchief I gave you. There’s not much to be done with the papers, except I might require you to wear gloves. I want to mark you in every conceivable way. Now, what do you want?” His steady voice only made Will harder, more desperate to shake some passionate reaction from the man.

 

“I want you to mark me. I want to wear bruises in my skin, scratches, cuts. I want the indentations of your teeth so deep that I never, ever forget that I am yours,” WIll confessed in one, humiliated hiss. He clenched his fingers around the edge of the desk.

 

“As if I would ever let you forget such a thing,” Hannibal replied, a tease weaving through his voice, his hips speeding up. He folded his hand around Will’s neck, pressed down until Will felt trapped, deliciously bound by the body of the man he adored.

 

“No. Never. Never let me forget.” Will used up what breath he had left, his face tight and mottled from the pressure, and he shut his eyes. His head buzzed, quiet, all silent inside of him except for sensation, the need to come, to be marked by Hannibal until his whole body rang with dangerous pleasure.

 

He met Hannibal’s gaze once again, the man’s jaw hanging a bit as he panted, his movements speeding further. A tear leaked from one corner of Will’s right eye, and he mouthed, “Please.”

 

Hannibal gave a feral grin, pressed just that much harder, and bent over Will to bite into his pec, hard, harder. Will whined, high-pitched and reedy, unable to even scream. Black dots hazed his vision, the coppery tang of blood reached his nose, and it only took one gentle pull of Hannibal’s fist around his cock to send him over the edge.

 

He came, his orgasm seemed endless, every bit of it enhanced by his lack of oxygen. The hand around his throat disappeared, and he coughed, which made him squeeze around Hannibal.

 

Who was still hard. Still hard, still making tiny thrusts across his now hypersensitive prostate. Will cleared his throat, coughed again, asked, “May I touch you? Please?”

 

At Hannibal’s short nod, Will wrapped his hands around the man’s neck, pulled himself up enough to lick into his mouth, taste his own blood. “Come on. Mark me inside too.”

 

And with that, his lover went into a frenzy, hard, short thrusts over and over and over again until more tears leaked from Will’s eyes at the overstimulation, the sort of pain that made his cock twitch with interest.

 

Hannibal lapped at his tears, and Will shuddered, laughed a little, heart pounding when Hannibal froze, teeth now clamped around the sensitive skin just under his left ear, bringing blood tingling to the surface. The small moaning grunt he let out sounded so loud to Will, made him wish he could come again just from that.

 

They stayed in that position, Hannibal’s face ducked against Will’s neck, Will holding himself up with trembling arms wrapped around his shoulders. Hannibal’s penis softened, slid out of Will, and he could feel the cum leaking out of him, dripping and pooling beneath his ass.

 

“Well. I suppose every class will know I’m taken tomorrow. As if my wedding ring wasn’t enough.” He peppered kisses from Hannibal’s temple, down his cheek. “I think we may have ruined my bag though.”

 

“That’s fine, I’ll buy you a new one. You’re lucky I’m letting you return to work.” Hannibal nipped at him again, this time without much serious intent.

 

Will smiled. “You could always move us to the country. Maybe I’ll get a dog. Work on fishing lures, sell them online.”

 

“There’s an idea. Then there won’t be any more people thinking they may steal what is mine.” Another nip, lower on his neck, harder.

 

“I would never. You know that, right?” Will stroked his back, tried to reassure.

 

“I trust you, Will. I have always trusted you, and you have never betrayed that trust. Not even when you found out what I was.” He helped Will off the desk, steadied him upon standing.

 

“We’d already begun to blur together by then. As if I would abandon you. I don’t love in half-measures.” Will let his rumpled shirt fall to his elbows and used the tails to clean off his belly. “I’m sorry about the hankie.”

 

“You know those are the only things that makes some of my appointments tolerable. The scent of you, of your sweat. Especially when they wear horrid colognes and leave _used tissues on my table_.” Hannibal huffed and shook his head as if to wave away the topic.

 

The papers mostly escaped unscathed, but his bag was a total loss, part of it drenched in his sweat, part of it drenched in bodily fluids.

 

Will jumped when Hannibal leaned in to lick the scarlet bite mark on his chest, then shivered. His cock plumped up, and Hannibal took it in his fingers, rolled the still supple flesh until Will stood on his toes and made obscene noises.

 

“Fuck, Hannibal, I don--nng--don’t think I can go again.” His breathless protest went unheeded for a few moments before Hannibal let go and walked to the doorway of his office, waiting in all of his naked glory. It was very distracting.  

 

“Too bad, Will, because I have some ideas that I would like to explore.” He paused, a pleasant look on his face that went just a tad darker when Will didn’t move. “Now.”

 

Will let the shirt drop to the floor with his other clothes. They’d clean up later. “Of course, Hannibal.” He threaded their fingers together. “Lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Tumblr](http://denaceleste.tumblr.com)! Come flail with me about our murder husbands and other fannish things!


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